


Korriban’s lovely at this time of year!

by Stareyed



Series: The Adventures of the Mad Sith Lord [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humour, Sarcasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:00:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stareyed/pseuds/Stareyed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cathan's training begins, on Korriban. And things immediately start going sideways....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Cathan mouths off to everyone's favourite Overseer.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the Korriban set of adventures of my male!LS! Sorcerer, Cathan. There was a prelude, but it was dark enough that it scared the bejeezus out of me, so I yanked it. Maybe I'll give it some polishing and put it back one day.
> 
> Contains: An impertinent slave mouthing off to Harkun, and everyone's favourite Sith hermit.

Korriban’s lovely at this time of year!

Part of _The Adventures of the Mad Sith Lord Cathan_

_  
“Passion is the road that leads to freedom. Be careful that it does not become instead your jailer.” –_ Sith proverb.

As the shuttle touched down on the platform, the two guards looked at the small, red-haired man in slave rags. “Go on then, slave. The Overseer’s waiting for you.” Giving the two men a long, level look that spoke eloquently of death, the slave took his time getting up, picking up the training blade he had been given, and sauntering out of the shuttle. Behind him, the two slavehandlers looked at each other, both unwilling to vocalise the dread they had felt after receiving such a look.

The corridors here were tall, wide and made out of some dark metal apparently designed to intimidate anyone who walked through them. _They should try harder – it will take more than some metal to scare me, now that I’m here. Time to change the galaxy._ Entering the room that he had been told he would be met in, he saw a number of people, all in front of a middle-aged human, wearing the characteristic outfit of a medium-rank Sith servant. “Cathan, reporting for duty.”

As the other newcomers looked over at him, the Overseer stepped forward and backhanded Cathan viciously, twice. “Once for being late, and again for speaking out of turn, slave.” Turning back toward the others, he added, “This attitude is what will get you in trouble. You think that you are no longer slaves, but I assure you – when Lord Zash chooses her apprentice, it will be none of _you_. You all know your tasks – get to them.” When Cathan didn’t move, he stepped forward. “Are you deaf, slave? I said _get to it_.” Raising one eyebrow, the younger man replied, “I’d do anything to get your ugly face out of my sight, but you forget – you didn’t give me a task.”

After one more backhand, Overseer Harkun picked a datachip out of his pocket and threw it at Cathan, who caught it neatly. “There. You have two hours. _If_ you even know how to use a datareader, and _if_ you survive, I will be waiting at my office in the main Academy building. Now get to it.” Taking the chip to the reader in the wall, Cathan brought up its contents on the screen, smiling sweetly at the Overseer’s face. “I seem to have the first half of the job down pat, Overseer. And here I thought you’d actually set me a challenge.” After Harkun left, grinding his teeth all the while, the young man’s shoulders slumped. _Great. Just great. Get through a monster-infested tomb, to the hideyhole of a mad Sith Lord, and then convince him to approve of me. Go figure._

***

Precisely one hour later, Cathan thought that the Force might be smiling on him after all. Not only had he found a rather nice tunic – softer and more comfortable by far than anything he’d ever worn – but he was actually getting the hang of this whole “swing the sword at them until they fall over” thing. Which was rather useful, seeing the sheer number of “them” available to swing at. _On the other thought, perhaps I’d best not start counting my blessings_ just _yet. That one with the vibrosword looks downright_ mean.

After making fairly short work of the group of tomb robbers, Cathan noticed a doorway off to the right. His datapad pinged at him, indicating that this was the route to the hideout of the mad Sith, Spindrall. _Well, no time like the present. As the mad rabbit said, “I’m late, I’m late, to a very important date!”_ Shaking the story – told him by his mother – aside, Cathan started down the passageway.

***

Spindrall did not, as it happened, want to kill him. In fact, Spindrall didn’t seem to be particularly insane – Cathan was unsure what to make of this. After greeting him, Spindrall had indeed ordered his training apprentices to kill Cathan, but it seemed to be done more in a spirit of testing than one of viciousness. And when all six of the apprentices were lying around the chamber in heaps of tangled, groaning limbs, he had warmly congratulated Cathan – and ordered refreshments from one of the servants whilst fishing a datachip out of a pouch and handing it to Cathan. When Cathan had begged off of more than a cup of tea out of haste, Spindrall had waved him away with a chuckle, and instructed him to “give Harkun my regards”. Perhaps there was something to being a “mad” Sith.


	2. In which Cathan meets his future Master.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cathan is nothing if not persistent....much to Harkun's annoyance.

_Harkun’s Office, Korriban Academy._

“I’ve waited long enough, slaves. Anyone who isn’t here –“ Harkun’s ill-tempered words barely concealed his gloating, and he found that he did not much care. For all that they’d only met once (and briefly, at that), that little slave had managed to really annoy him. His just desserts, then, to be arbitrarily cut off by Harkun. Or so the Overseer thought.

“You rang, Overseer? So terribly _sorry_ to keep you waiting. Oh, Spindrall sends his regards, Harkun.” Harkun counted slowly to five, and then looked over at the doorway. “Slave, cease lying. I know that Spindrall would not be impressed by a worm like you – “ his tirade was cut short by Cathan’s tossing a datachip at him. “The datachip is from Spindrall, Harkun – why don’t you put it in a datareader? If you know how to use one, that is.” Harkun fielded the datachip neatly, then tossed it onto his desk, quite aware of the suppressed giggles that had taken hold among the remaining acolytes.

“I’ll deal with your insolence later, slave. In the meantime….Acolyte Kory, step forward….please.” The girl stepped forward, sensing that something was wrong, but unsure what. “I’m going to give you all a lesson, slaves. Spindrall saw this slave, saw the _weakness_ in her, and so….” Backing off, Kory was too slow to evade the barrage of lightning Harkun sent after her, and too weak to block it – the blast caught her square in the chest, and she fell to the floor screaming. “Meet our newcomer, Ffon Althe. This is real Sith strength, and he will tear you apart and crush your bones, slaves. Look at him – no connections left in the world but pure Sith blood. This – this – is Lord Zash’s future apprentice, not _filth_ like you.”

Cathan didn’t like the look of this newcomer, but it was always better to make friends. “Well-met, Ffon Althe. I hope that Harkun treats you better than he treats us.” The Sith’s response was as immediate as it was cold. “Save your well-wishes for someone who cares, slave.” After the other acolytes – including Ffon - had been sent on their way, Harkun rounded on Cathan. “Now you listen to me, slave, and you listen well. Spindrall is a lunatic – his approval means _nothing_. You are filth, and you will die – is that clear?” Something within Cathan, bowed by long years of servitude and energised by Spindrall’s approval, snapped.

“I promise you this, Harkun: before I die, I will visit your grave just to dance on it. The day will come when you over-reach, and I just hope that I’m there to see it.” Enraged, Harkun reached out his hands, and fired a vicious barrage of lightning at the young gadfly. Dimly, through the pain, Cathan heard his reply. “Now, your second trial. Lord Zash is paying more attention than I had thought, and she has requested a _special_ trial for you, which you will no doubt fail. Inquisitor Zyn has the details for you – he is in the jails. Go, and do not come back until you have completed the trial.”

***

The Inquisitor in the jails proved to be a plump, unsettlingly cheerful older man who reminded Cathan of some of the more….inventive…slave overseers back on Nez Peron. Apparently, Zash – through Harkun – felt that Cathan’s past as a slave meant that he needed to be inured to the control of others. After the acolyte involved had been interrogated, Cathan walked back to Harkun’s office, deep in thought. Despite his professed disappointment at Cathan’s determination to protect the hapless acolyte, Zyn had eventually agreed to do what he could to protect him, and there had been a gleam of approval in his eyes as he examined the young man who had manoeuvred him into making the promise.

It seemed that Harkun was in a perfectly foul mood, although Zyn’s approval of Cathan shielded him from Harkun’s temper. Unfortunately, Harkun had found another way to express his disapproval of the slave-turned-acolyte, by setting him a task that no Sith had achieved in a thousand years – to penetrate the depths of Marka Ragnos’ tomb and retrieve his holocron.

***

The tomb had been tough, and Cathan’s clothes were ripped in several places where the claws of ravenous beasts and the blades of terrified fugitives had torn at them. And to cap it all off, that damnable monument had frustrated him until he finally lost control of his anger and simply blasted it! Still, it had opened after that, so that wasn’t so bad.

Still, Harkun didn’t seem to appreciate it. After deriding it as a fake, he ordered Ffon to kill one of the acolytes, simply as a show of power. After this followed yet another “impossible” trial, this time retrieving an ancient text from Tulak Hord’s tomb. As he returned to Harkun’s office _,_ he noticed a blonde woman, garbed as a Sith and apparently some few years older than him. As he passed, she stopped him with a gesture. “Yes. Yes, remarkable. Magnificent! You - you, slave – no, _acolyte_ – you’re the one who brought me this magnificent holocron from the tomb of Marka Ragnos, yes?” Cathan was rather unsettled by the praise. _She’s pretty…no,_ beautiful _. But she wants something from me, I can tell. Still, she looks like a full Lord….!!_ “Lord Zash, I believe. It was actually simple.”

Zash looked politely disbelieving. “Really? A thousand years of Sith Lords unable to access it – how did you do this?” After a moment of thought, Cathan decided to test his limits with her. _She sounds sweet, but that means little – I want to know what she’s really like._ “I killed seven tuk’ata, ate their blood and bathed in their hearts…oh, dear.” Embarrassed at the transparency of the lie, he trailed off. Zash laughed – a musical, cheerful sound. “Oh really, acolyte? And now the _truth_ , please.” Cathan was blushing furiously and smiling hesitantly – besides the fact that this beautiful woman was talking to him as if he were a _person_ , rather than the _thing_ he still half-suspected himself of being on bad days, her laughter was infectious. “I…I, erm, lost my temper. And shot lightning at the Force-damned thing until it opened.”

Zash rocked back on her heels, visibly surprised – and impressed. “Such a simple solution! Why did no-one else think of that? Perhaps we over-thought it, believed too strongly that it couldn’t be done. Or perhaps we were simply not meant to open it. Your work so far – in bringing back the holocron, and now the text from Tulak Hord’s tomb, has me intrigued. I’m watching your progress eagerly. I have high hopes for you, acolyte. Sky-high.” Buoyed by the unmistakable vote of confidence from the person whose decision mattered most in picking the next acolyte, the acolyte sounded even younger than he was when he puffed up his chest and blurted out, “I won’t fail you, Lord Zash! I promise!”

Patting the acolyte gently on the cheek, Zash bade him good fortune and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it just me, or does it sound like my poor Sorcerer is setting himself up for a fall? He does seem to trust people far too easily....and is it just me, or does he sound kinda 15-ish, instead of the 17 or so I had in mind?
> 
> As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!


	3. In which Cathan meets a monster.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Third part (of four) of Cathan's adventures on Korriban, seeking to be accepted as the apprentice of Lord Zash.

_Tomb of Naga Sadow_

_Valley of the Ancients, Korriban.  
_

 

The sight was magnificent enough, in its own ghoulish way. After Zash had reversed Harkun's latest attempt to stack the deck in Ffon Althe's favour (by giving Cathan critical information relating to the opening of the tomb's inner sanctum, whilst denying Harkun permission to likewise inform Althe), Cathan had set off for the tomb of the fabled Sith Lord Naga Sadow in high hopes. After all, he had the all-important information of _how_ to open the tomb, whilst Ffon Althe was relegated to furiously prowling the passageways - for Cathan had been careful to seal the entrance behind him. This was do-or-die; no room for compromises or middle ground.

 

In theory, the mission was simple enough: Free an ancient servitor of Tulak Hord (something called a "Dashade" - had time been less critical, Cathan would have taken some time to look that up), "convince" it to help him find the Star Map, and retrieve said map. Easy, right? Well, right up until Cathan actually _saw_ the "Dashade" that Zash had mentioned. He was _big_ , even by the standards of not-short humans. And he was imprisoned, in some kind of stasis field - a painless enough way to pass the centuries until......something happened.

 

But what something? Why would a Sith stick a loyal servant here, rather than keeping them by his side? Perhaps...treasure? Lore? Either way, the immense monster would need to see both strength and tact. Tact to assure him that his service would be valued, and strength to remind him who was in charge. Drawing himself up to his unimpressive height (all 5'6" of it), Cathan examined the stasis field controls -simple enough to deactivate, and he did so. As the field started weakening, Cathan took two deliberate steps back to avoid provoking a reflexive attack.

 

But no attack was forthcoming. Instead of lashing out, the "Dashade" opened its eyes - a deep, sinister red - and looked around. Spotting the diminutive young man, it let out a howl of derision, followed by words

_< Ha! All the world conspires to mock me! Haha! Tulak Hord, I waited for you! I did everything you said! And this is what you send me? You have made a terrible mistake, little one.>_

Through some arcane technology on the Dashade's person (its body was fairly festooned with assorted metal parts, any of which could be a mechanical translator) or simply via the Force, Cathan found he could understand its words. "These were the instructions I was given by Lord Zash - I would free you from your imprisonment, and in return you would guide me to the map found in the final chamber of this tomb."

The Dashade's response was both puzzling and informative at the same time, repeatedly invoking Tulak Hord as though he were a deity, and making references to several events Cathan had no idea of. It was clear that the Dashade was not particularly interested in going along with Zash's plans, and Cathan decided to step back another pace or two, and bring his training blade closer to between the pair of them. And sure enough, the Dashade - whose name was "Khem Val" - opened its maw, revealing two jagged rows of very sharp-looking teeth, unlimbered a wicked-looking blade and announced that he _hungered_. With no more ado, he charged, presenting an apparently-solid wall of teeth, claws and sword to the terrified acolyte's view.


	4. In which Cathan wins the only contest that counts.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final part of Cathan's adventures on Korriban - and he's glad to leave (who isn't?).

_Harkun's office, Sith Academy, Korriban._

_Approximately an hour later.  
_

Cathan was practically giddy with anticipation, and an unfamiliar feeling of power, as he approached the office of Overseer Harkun. Not only did he have the map (and Ffon Althe, by definition, did not), but - invoking some law of its kind - the Dashade had committed to following him after being defeated in its chamber. _Not that it wasn't close - I'm going to be feeling those bruises and cuts for days to come - but I think it's worth it._ Already, Khem had shown a willingness to watch and judge his worth based on actions even if he wouldn't call Cathan "Master" yet, and Cathan had taken a good meal and a nice long drink in the refreshment area of the Academy, the better to let Harkun and Althe stew in the knowledge of their failure to rig the contest. However, his pleasant thoughts were interrupted by a voice - Ffon Althe's - as he got near the door, and he quickly slid to the side of the doorway to learn what his rival was up to.

" - it cannot be done! I went _into_ the tomb, I _saw_ the Dashade across the chasm, but I could not _get to it_ _!_ " Harkun's reply was unsually testy when directed at his protege. "But the map - the map! Lord Zash is adamant - she will not take an apprentice without. The map!" Althe, for the first time that anyone could remember, snapped back at the Overseer. "Then Lord Zash won't take an apprentice - she wants the impossible! No one is ever going to get the damned map!" Cathan thought, rather vindictively, they were about ready for him....

"What map, Overseer? Oh, you mean _this_ map!" Harkun blanched, and Althe flushed with some unidentifiable emotion - rage? shame? "The map! And - _the Dashade_." From shock, the Overseer's face was now showing fear. "Get that monster out of here this instant - and give me the map!" Althe's concern was otherwise than his master's - he was definitely furious, and accused his rival of cheating, also throwing in a "monster" or two directed at Khem Val. More importantly, while Cathan was distracted, Harkun snatched the map out of his hand, and ordered Althe to take it to Zash, claiming victory - and dooming Cathan to a quick death as a failed acolyte. Cathan was about half a heartbeat from asking Khem what roast Harkun tasted like (and offering to provide the lightning to do the roasting - no sense in only giving half a gift, after all), when...

"Don't go anywhere, Ffon."

_Lord Zash!_ Cathan's thought was echoed by his rival - both equally surprised that Zash should show up right now of all times. While Zash was commanding Ffon to hand over the map, Cathan sneaked a quick look over at the bookshelf he remembered Zash leaning on when she visited earlier. Sure enough, a small listening device was hidden under a shelf - visible only to a short person. Zash must have been waiting for just this moment, hidden out of sight like a particularly attracive ghost.....and must have calculated his actions to a "T". _Careless, Harkun - let's see if your stupidity extends to other matters._

After discovering Harkun's attempted duplicity - Ffon's nervousness was obvious enough that anyone could tell it - Zash was incandescent with rage. As she upbraided the overseer, Cathan _felt_ what she was building up to -

 - and stood between her and Ffon Althe.

"What are you _doing_ , acolyte?" For the first time in the argument, Zash's voice was neither coated in honey nor full of fury - which, if Cathan was right, meant she was thinking _hard_. Cathan gulped - whatever he was doing, _thinking_ wasn't part of it - and took a step closer to Zash.

"He didn't do anything wrong, Lord Zash. He didn't break the rules - Harkun did. If you're going to punish anyone...."

Zash lowered her hands and narrowed her eyes. "Unfortunately, Harkun isn't under my authority - I can't simply kill him....as much as I'm tempted by the idea." Realising just how thin the ice they stood on was, the two disgraced Sith stayed silent, giving Cathan room to act. "Then punish him some other way - some way that doesn't rob the Academy of an instructor _and_ an acolyte who....how did you put it again? Would 'tear the other acolytes to shreds'? The Empire needs strength like Ffon's - don't waste it here!"

Zash crossed her arms, then pointed at Harkun. " _You_ \- owe me your artifact collection. I know you've been quietly taking bits and pieces, trying to gather enough power to yourself to become a Lord - that ends here, Harkun. As for you, Althe - get out of my sight. If I see you again, I _will_ kill you - but I hear that Lord Zyn is interested in taking a new apprentice." Turning on her heel, she stalked to the entryway, then paused. "Oh, apprentice. Meet me in my office in half an hour."

  
Looking at each other, the three she left behind stayed silent for a moment - Ffon was the first to speak up. "This changes nothing, slave. I'll get my revenge on you someday - just you see!" Casting a withering look at his once-patron, he stormed out of the room. Only after Althe left did Harkun break his silence also - almost as if he had been waiting for his one-time protege to begone.

"It seems that I taught you better than I thought. Ffon will rage and moan, but he'll abide by the debt he owes you - as will I. Take care around Lord Zash - she has large plans, and I think you're the centerpiece of them. Now, get going, slave....I mean, _apprentice_."


End file.
